She nodded thoughtfully. 'It seems like a dreadful waste of time to me. You see, if you make me leave this coach, you will be further delayed by having to remove my luggage. And then I shall have to arrange other transportation to Dover.'
His lips collapsed into a tight line. 'You will do nothing of the kind.'
Determination fired in her eyes. 'Yes, I will.'
'The hell you will. I forbid it.'
'I shall go just the same.'
He barely smothered the vicious oath that rose to his lips. Damn stubborn woman. 'Elizabeth, you are
'How is your French?'
That gave him pause. 'My French?'
'According to Caroline, you understand the language but can't speak it well enough for anyone to comprehend.'
Even while he mentally consigned his sister to perdition, he couldn't deny the truth of her words. His French was atrocious.
His lip curled. 'And I suppose you're fluent?'
She shot him a beaming smile.
'And who taught you French?'
'My English mother, who studied the language as all English young ladies do.' Her smile faded and her eyes turned imploring and determined at the same time. 'Please understand. I cannot let you go alone. I promised to help you, and help you I shall. If you refuse to take me with you, I shall be forced to travel to Calais on my own.'
He could tell by the tilt of her chin and the fierce resolve in her expression that she would do as she threatened unless he planned to tie her forcibly to a chair. And even if he did he didn't doubt that Robert, Miles, Caroline, or even his own mother would untie her. Damn it, the entire bloody family would no doubt accompany her to France.
Knowing he was defeated but not liking it one bit, he climbed into the carriage. Without waiting for the footman, he slammed the door shut himself, then signaled the driver to depart.
Chapter 22
The damn woman was impossible to ignore.
He wouldn't have been able to ignore her if they'd been in a huge ballroom. The confines of his coach nearly undid him.
All his senses were intensely aware of her. Every time he inhaled, her gentle lilac scent filled his head.
In desperation, he closed his eyes, praying he'd fall asleep, but his prayers were in vain. Instead images of her danced behind his eyes. Images that nothing could erase.
What would it take to wipe her from his thoughts? From his heart? His soul?
He opened one eye a slit. She sat across from him, reading a book, and appeared cool and composed, a fact that rankled him. Clearly he was the only one who was suffering.
He slammed his eye shut and held in a grunt. By damn, he was determined to suffer in silence. Even if the effort killed him.
The coach ride nearly killed her.
Elizabeth exited the coach in Dover and stretched her cramped muscles. The journey had been sheer torture. Five hours of pretending to read a book she could not even name the title of. And all the while Austin had sat across from her, sleeping.
She would have gladly welcomed sleep, but she could barely sit still, let alone close her eyes. She spent the entire journey staring at her book, her heart desperately trying to convince her mind to accept the offer Austin had made weeks ago-to be lovers in ways that would not result in the conception of a child.
But as much as her heart begged her mind refused to listen.
An icy shudder ripped through her. As much as her decision hurt, she could not subject Austin to the torment of their daughter's death.
Austin stared at the innkeeper. 'I beg your pardon?'
'There's only one room, your grace,' the elderly man repeated.
He truly had to fight the urge to pound his fists upon the stone walls. Damn it, what else could go wrong? But even as the question entered his mind he banished it. Better not to ask.
And no point taking his frustrations out on the innkeeper. It wasn't the elderly man's fault that his inn was full. After issuing instructions to the footman to deliver the necessary baggage to the available room, he allowed the innkeeper to lead him and Elizabeth up the stairs.
The room was small but cheerful, the space nearly wholly occupied by a comfortable-looking bed covered with an intricately embroidered cream coverlet.
'There's fresh water in the pitcher, your grace,' the innkeeper said. 'Will you need anything else?'
Austin pried his attention from the bed and the wealth of thoughts it inspired. 'Nothing else, thank you.'
The innkeeper left, closing the door behind him. Austin watched Elizabeth fiddle with the ties on her bonnet. She looked at him and offered an uncertain half smile.
'This is a… tad awkward,' she said.
He approached her, his eyes riveted on hers. 'Awkward? Why is that? We're man and wife.'
Crimson stained her cheeks. 'I cannot share a bed with you.'
'So you've said. But unfortunately there is only one bed. And two of us.'
'I shall sleep on the floor,' she said in what he believed she intended as a confident voice, but the slight tremor gave a clear indication that she was rattled.
Good. She was not as calm as she appeared. He'd just spent five miserable hours, and the notion that she might be miserable as well cheered him considerably.
He took another step toward her. Her eyes widened a bit, but she stood her ground. Another step closer and he detected her sharp intake of breath. Two more strides and he stood directly in front of her. Her golden brown eyes flickered with apprehension, but he grudgingly had to admire her spirit in not backing away from him. But damn it, he longed to shake her composure. As she'd shaken his.
Lowering his gaze to her mouth, he whispered, 'It isn't necessary for you to sleep on the floor, Elizabeth.'
'I'm afraid it is.'
'Because you don't trust me not to seduce you?'
'I trust you,' she whispered. 'It's myself I cannot trust.'
The ache in her voice snapped his gaze back to hers. He studied her, the vulnerability glimmering in her eyes, the need and desire shadowing their golden depths, and his breath stalled. He sensed she was trying desperately to hide it, but the evidence was there in her eyes. She wanted him. Desire shimmered from her like warm sun rays, beckoning him.
He lifted his hand to touch her, but curled his fingers into a fist and resisted the powerful urge. Her eyes told him he could seduce her, but he couldn't endure the pain of having to let her go again. Of hearing her say afterward that she planned to leave him. As much as he wanted her, her betrayal still hurt too much.
Turning from her, he walked to the window and dragged his hands down his face. It occurred to him that Elizabeth's visions were a double-edged sword. On the one side, they'd helped lead him to Gaspard who would in turn hopefully lead him to William.
